


Even the Mighty Fall Sometimes

by proudlyyours



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, Fluff, Teacher!Lexa, clarke is a smitten kitten, clexa suburban au, i guess i can tag this as, just a drabble preempting a pretty cool fic i'm excited to get working on!, lexa's bloody awesome in clarke's eyes, mechanic!clarke, tumblr tag for this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:45:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8897854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proudlyyours/pseuds/proudlyyours
Summary: The thing Clarke is enjoying the most about the suburban neighbourhood to which she's just moved is definitely the woman that lives opposite her. The life-alteringly beautiful and composed Lexa somehow makes Clarke simultaneously feel like the most hopeless and luckiest woman to have ever existed when she's in her presence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a drabble inspired by a curious ask on tumblr for a fic I'm hoping to start writing soon. I was asked to provide a little insight into Clarke in this universe so this is from her POV but the main story will probably be from Lexa's (although judging by how much fun I had writing this, I could probably write both sides...) Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I'd love it if you'd let me know if you do, never underestimate the power of a comment to make a writer's day! :)

While living in the bustling heart of Seattle may not have been city life in the way that New Yorkers experienced it, Clarke hadn’t realised just how accustomed to it she had grown over the years until she moved to a picturesque little street far out in the suburbs of Washington DC. It had been such a long time since she’d called this place home and it was so odd to be back living just a twenty minute walk away from her childhood home. She found it strange to wake to birds chirping, unmarred by the rush of traffic and angry honking, though she was definitely fond of the hush of the night that was so conducive to falling asleep. Her golden retriever, Dexter, was beyond in love with their small but quaint backyard, a luxury that their apartment in Seattle had lacked. The most striking comparison between her new neighbourhood and her old one, however, was definitely the fact that all of the people were so friendly in this strange land. Clarke had definitely forgotten that part in the years since she’d moved away. She’d grown accustomed to having to do all the work in social interactions with the customers that came by her garage, and with people in general, really, but here in suburbia, people went out of their way to talk to her. Several even brought her baked goods to welcome her to the neighbourhood and each time they saw Dexter they’d fuss over him until he grew dopey from all of the affection. 

The best thing about her little one-storey house (she still couldn’t quite believe she actually lived in a house and such a nice one at that) was the view. Yes, part of the view that she enjoyed was the brightly painted wood-panelled houses, immaculate lawns, and pretty pruned shrubs, but there was one thing that she liked even more than the delicate blend of nature and human existence. The part of the landscape that Clarke had become most fond of was the gorgeous brunette who lived across the street. That’s what she would have referred to her as in her head as she admired her from afar if it weren’t for the fact that they’d already met. Her name was Lexa Woods, A.K.A the woman of Clarke’s dreams, both of the day and night variety.

Lexa was an odd mix of awkward and proper, all fidgety hands, perfect elocution, and slightly longer than entirely necessary words falling from beautifully crafted lips. As soon as Clarke emerged from the back of the moving van with a stupidly heavy box in her arms and caught sight of her, she was enamoured. Her somewhat inelegant mind began scrambling for the most poetic words at her disposal and messily threw them together in an attempt to capture the essence of this powerful, somehow almost regal woman.

Whenever Clarke managed to string sentences together well enough to get Lexa to talk to her, she would admire the way Lexa’s posture straightened, how her chin would rise to an angle of elegance that Clarke knew she’d never reach, and how her diction tightened in comparison to the happy chatter she’d heard coming from across the street on countless occasions. It was summer and Lexa could often be seen stood in her front yard with her next door neighbour, Octavia, her demeanour relaxed and open as they talked and she fawned over Octavia’s infant son. Clarke found herself imagining a future filled with babies blessed with Lexa’s perfectly tamed curls and her own blue eyes (screw the limitations of science, she’d find a way) when she watched Lexa press kisses into the little boy’s cheek.

Clarke had never been interested in her neighbours in any way before but something about Lexa captivated her whether she was running with sweat-slicked skin and her hair in a braid, walking with her slender frame draped in a pretty sundress, or padding out of her house barefoot in the early morning sunshine to collect her mail in plaid pants, a tank top, and hair tousled by sleep.

Clarke mostly just admired Lexa from afar at first. She was just a casual observer whose rough, over-worked hands had been inspired to pick up a pencil and begin sketching again, mind swayed by the angles of Lexa’s jawline and delicate collarbones. But one day, on one oh-so-fateful Tuesday evening, Clarke went and did something unwise: she made Lexa laugh.

Boy, oh boy, there was no coming back from that.

It was totally stupid; she’d just been working on a car in her driveway like she did most nights. Lexa stopped by to talk to her before she went for her usual evening run, something she had done a few times now, the politeness of suburbia long since entwined with every strand of her being. Of course, being a mere mortal, Clarke ended up distracted by the skin-tight clothing Lexa was wearing, the delectable curve of her neck that was free from the confines of her now braided hair, and with the fact that her waist seemed the perfect size for Clarke to loop her most likely trembling arms around. All of these things and more had her imagining those probably-carved-by-angels lips skimming down the hollow of her throat, her unworthy hands gripping onto those surprisingly toned biceps and…

Clarke’s mind snapped back to Lexa’s words because it had veered way off course and it certainly wasn’t very neighbourly of her to be thinking like that. Besides, Lexa had done nothing but prove that she deserved to be listened to. Even with her determination to be as attentive as possible Clarke was distracted, so distracted in fact that she forgot about the grease on her hands. She brushed her fingers across her cheek unconsciously, trying to rake the hair off her face lest it obscure her view of the woman before her, without realising she was streaking her skin in the viscous substance in which her clothes were almost always covered.

“Um,” Lexa began, biting her lip against the smile that was trying to convert her lips (and Clarke’s entire being) to its way of life, “Clarke, you have a little…” Slender fingers grazed at her own cheek, making Clarke forget the words she was hearing as soon as they entered her mind.

“Huh?” She was an absolutely useless human, utterly terrible really, it was a wonder she’d ever managed to get a woman to find her in any way appealing. If she couldn't conjure a coherent sentence soon surely Lexa would leave, disgusted with her slack jaw and how she suddenly couldn’t speak the language she’d had a fairly good grasp on for the last twenty-four years. Her hand came back up to mirror Lexa’s action and just served to smear more grease on her face. That’s when the very purpose of Clarke’s existence lit up before her eyes, much like Lexa did.

It’s very possible that Clarke fell in the love with the way every muscle in Lexa’s body seemed to loosen in her amusement, starting with her carefully measured smile that stretched into one much messier and toothier, and ending in her face creasing up entirely. Her shoulders began to shake as she tried to hold back her laugh but she failed and Clarke was so _glad_ because the sound that emerged was so full and goofy and honestly, it was a miracle that Clarke could still stand at this point. Lexa ended up gripping onto Clarke’s shoulder to steady herself, it wasn’t an intimate gesture in the slightest but Clarke was already wondering how she could get Lexa to realise that she was into women because she needed this girl to kiss her but there was no way she had the audacity to elevate herself to the level of a goddess. If it wasn’t entirely stupid, she would have probably bowed in the presence of that life-altering laugh. In that moment she felt blessed to have met someone that could appear so elegant and steadfast one minute and then end up dissolving in laughter, practically guffawing in the street with an over-excited golden retriever jumping at her side the next.

Clarke’s best friend Raven teased her the following day at work when she told her all about it. Oh how she delighted in hearing of the failure of the previously infallible Clarke Griffin who had never before shown weakness when confronted by the wonder of a beautiful woman.

Oh how the mighty had fallen.

(Mighty found a new meaning in the moment Clarke met Lexa.)

**Author's Note:**

> I love posting about my writing on [my tumblr](http://proudlyyours.tumblr.com). Keep an eye out for the accompanying fic for this piece in the (hopefully) near future :) Thanks for reading!


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